


Wakandan Honeymoon

by LadyRimouski



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Honeymoon, Lazy Mornings, Lingerie, Married Sex, POV Male Character, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, Strip Tease, Wakanda, tropical paradise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 00:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11589543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRimouski/pseuds/LadyRimouski
Summary: Steve Rogers takes a break from avenging to spend some intimate time with his new bride.





	1. Their First Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers awakes the first morning of his honeymoon, and seeks out his new bride.

Steve Rogers opened his eyes lazily as the late morning light streamed across the large bed, draped in sheer white panels, where he was waking. At first aware only of the knowledge that he had nowhere to be and nothing to do, as the last cobwebs of sleep clear from the corners of his mind, he recalled why that was the case, and smiled. _A wedding gift from the rest of the team. Three days off the grid._ The Avengers had gotten together and decided that, despite his opinions, they would be perfectly fine to handle whatever crises may come up for a few days, and that he should spend them with his bride. A trill of emotion welled up in his chest at the thought of (Y/N), his bride, and now truly his wife. His hand reached across the bedsheets, towards the crumpled space where she had slept, next to him, entwined in his arms. The surface of the sheets were cool, she must have been up for a while. Deciding to find her quickly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and strode to the dresser, where he shrugged on a crisp pair of linen pants. He decided against getting dressed any further, his skin already starting to glow with the humid heat of a Wakandan day. He passed out of the bedroom doorway into the greatroom of the suite set aside for them by T’chala. Another wedding gift. These rooms were part of the wing set aside for friends and family of Wakandan royalty, and not the more austere aesthetic of the diplomatic visitors accommodations. The rooms were tastefully and comfortably appointed. There was clearly quite a bit of artistic taste and money put into the décor and furnishings, but it avoided the gaudy ostentation that some might expect from an African regime. No militaristic dictators, insecure in their power and their place in the world, the Wakandan royal family had nothing to prove by conspicuous spending, and a commitment to stewarding the government’s resources well, despite their personal and country’s affluence. Not finding (Y/N) to be present in his survey of the room, he strolled over to the dining table where he had noticed a basket displaying tropical fruit. He selected a red, soft-skinned fruit that he did not recognise and bit into it absently as he walked toward the open doors at the back of the room. They opened onto a private yard surrounded by tall walls that looked like cliff faces, bedecked as they were by tropical vegetation. A natural-looking plunge pool filled the center of the space, with a narrow waterfall cascading off the back wall, splashing off the rocks at the perimeter of the pool. It was there he found her.

She stood at the edge of the pool, water cascading down her body. He noted that she had not felt the need to dress this morning, as cloistered as the were in their little suite, as she was enjoying the water fully nude. He took her in, a pale shining figure in the morning sun, glistening against the dark wet rock. She lifted and turned her arms, catching the spray of the water as it fell, dispelling the growing African heat. His eyes travelled the length of her body, lingering on the swell of her hips, the round curve of her buttocks, her twist of a waist, and rising to her smooth back, hoping for a glimpse of her naked breasts. He was familiar with the shape of them now, intimately acquainted in fact, but he still got a thrill every time he caught a flash of them. As he watched, (Y/N) turned in the fall, her face upturned to the water coming from above, her eyes closed. His vision filled with her smooth pale globes, softly round, with pink areolas, her nipples erect in the chill water, fixating him. She ran her arms up the sides of her torso, raising them to her face, and smoothing her hair in the water flow. She gave a little toss of her head, to clear the last of the tangles, which set her breast shaking with the momentum. Steve felt a flush of heat run through his body, and his pants were abruptly too tight and coarse. Coming back to himself, he felt suddenly voyeuristic, watching her unawares, and yet could not draw his eyes away. He opened his mouth to call out to her and alert her to his presence, but before he could, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze directly, and winked with a smirk. The little minx had been putting on a show for him! His morning greeting turned into a surprised “Oh” and she did a little wiggle, then folded at the waist and dove gracefully into the water below. Her head bobbed up, treading water as they both started laughing, a mix of amusement and elation.

“Come on in, the water's fine,” she called out to him.

“There are lots of fine things this morning,” he replied, as he hastily stripped off his trousers, and jumped in the pool with her.

The water was fresh, not chlorinated. There must be some natural spring supplying it, the continual flow of water keeping it cool, despite the sun. He took two masterful strokes and caught up his bride, lifting her slightly out of the water. She bent her head to meet his lips in a kiss, still giggling. Buoyed by the water, she felt light and insubstantial in his arms, like some ethereal water nymph set on seducing him.

“Good morning,” he said as their lips parted, “I'm sorry I slept in on you.”

“Well I should like to think that I tired you out, a little” was her reply.

“It takes a lot to tire me out, these days”

“I can see that,” she purred, trailing her fingers along his biceps as his arms encircled her.

It had been years now since Dr Erskine's serum had stripped away the infirmities of his youth, but he still remembered, and did not take for granted the things his new-found physical power made so easy. He kicked out, leaning backward and drawing her close, onto his chest. He was acutely aware of skin against skin, and the fact that neither of them were wearing swim suits. But, the chill water served to cool his ardor somewhat, and playfulness won out over arousal. (Y/N) must have been of the same mind, because she shimmied off of his body, and dove down, turning in the water, and bobbing beside him. While his muscle mass, denser than water, made swimming an exercise in keeping his head above water (or holding his breath), her higher percentage bodyfat (nicely deposited in all his favourite places) made her swim manoeuvres appear effortless, merely guiding herself through the water, rather than fighting against it. She glided through the water, circling around him, as he tread water. Behind his back, he felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin on his right and nibbling lightly on his earlobe.

“You really do have a lot of power underneath your suit. The film footage just doesn't do it justice.”

He flustered somewhat at the praise of something that he felt was somewhat unearned, and yet at the same time, he wanted to show off some, really show her what he could do.

“Do you want to see a bit of what we do in the field?”

She came around in front of him again, looking a little confused, but curious.

“It's just a basic lift. The water's a forgiving safety net, and I'll walk you through it.”

As comprehension dawned, a sunny smile broke across her face, causing his stomach to do a little flip as it shone on him.

“Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean. I used to try these as a kid. What fun.”

“You're not afraid of high dives, are you?”

“No, I've got decent swim training. And besides, I trust you,” she responded while looking into his eyes.

He cupped his hands in front of himself, and directed her to put her weight onto it. As he drove her upward, he compensated slightly for her inexpert balance, still managing to launch her straight, seven feet into the air. Her landing was not quite as graceful as her earlier dive. He caught the glimpse of her surprised face right before she hit the water with a splash.

“You loon,” she cried, “you should have warned me!” sweeping her arm to bring a second splash of water across his face.

“I did” he replied, somewhat defensively. But her laughter, and demands of again, again, soothed his anxiety over the subject. They continued to horse around, trying various lifts and launches and gaining height and control. He was impressed at her determination to conquer a skill that was definitely outside of her field, and in which she had had little experience. She was no Avenger, but by the time she claimed fatigue and climbed out to warm up in the sun, she was clearing nearly the same heights Natasha could, and landing with a reasonable degree of grace and control.

He watched with pride as his little wife settled on the warm rock in the sun, then set himself to swimming laps across the length of the pool. He was not yet fatigued, and strengthening his swim stroke was absolutely part of his career. There would be time for more interesting physical exertions later.

  



	2. Their Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve does not expect the last night of his honeymoon to be such a memorable surprise.

As they headed back to their suite for the evening, Steve Rogers couldn't help but feel melancholic at the prospect of returning to their everyday routine. Yes, (Y/N) was still his, they had made their vows to tie their lives together, he pulled her closer to his side as they walked, to reassure himself of this fact. But, it still remained that they both lead very busy lives, and they were bound to be pulled in opposite directions. Especially when he was on mission, or dealing with one of the crises that had seemed to become almost routine for the Avengers crew. And (Y/N) had her own commitments to the scientific community; she wasn't like Clint's wife Laura, set on creating a homestead retreat and traditional family unit. He had thought that was what his future held, once, before things became infinitely more complicated. He didn't think it really fit who he had become, now.

They reached the door of their rooms, and he pulled it open and held it for his wife to pass through.

“Thank you, Steve... ever the gentleman”

He followed her in to the greatroom that's been their retreat for the previous two and a half blissful days. As she set down the bags of souvenirs she had picked up at the market, his thoughts returned again to his team.

“Wonder how Nat is handling training, she's certainly capable, she just prefers to stay out of the spotlight. And I'm sure Tony's gotten himself, and the rest of us, into some sort of trouble by now.”

He heard a soft noise from (Y/N) that might have been a sigh, as she set down the items she had unpacked, and drew herself close to his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her in response.

“They're fine, Love” she said, lifting her palm and caressing the line of his jaw. “They can handle three days without you. For tonight, you're still just mine.”

She punctuated this statement by dropping her hand below his waist, and firmly cupping his cock through his pants. He blushed a little at her boldness, thrilled as he was by the prospect of another evening together. As he lifted his eyes to her face, he found she was blushing, too, at her own audacity, but her eyes twinkled with suppressed wit. She caught his hand in her own, and turned to lead him around the kitchen island, and to the sitting area in the center of the room.

“Now, you just sit here” she said, drawing him around, and directing him to sit in a large easy-chair. “Wait right here for your surprise.”

She turned on her heel and sashayed towards the bedroom; his eyes following her swaying behind until she disappeared through the doorway. He fidgetted in nervous anticipation of what she had in store for him. After what felt like eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, she returned, her figure filling the doorway of the bedroom as she leaned against the doorframe in a sinuous pose.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, as he gawped at her. She stood before him in a full set of sheer black lingerie. The semitransparent lace revealing hints of her most intimate places, but concealing most from his gaze. He had never seen her like this before. He'd seen her naked, and he'd seen her disrobe (he'd even done some of the disrobing himself), but this was something else. She practically oozed sex. And all this for him. He felt his cock twitch in response to the thought. All he wanted to do was to strip it off her. He started to rise to do just that, but she held up a finger to stop him.

“Unh, unh, unh. You stop right there, mister. You stay right there. You can look, but you can't yet touch.”

As she made her way towards him, he noted the tall black heels she had donned, changing the rhythm of her stride so that her shapely legs were accented. He tracked his eyes up from her ankles, following the smooth black stockings that ended mid-thigh, where they were held up with a garter belt, also black lace. Underneath she wore a small set of black panties, and a bustier bra. She approached him, gliding her hands over her body, touching where he ached to touch.

“I'm going to make you watch as I take all this off. And you can't touch until I say so. Does that sound like something you want?”

“Yes” he growled deeply from the back of his throat, before he could even think. Thinking in general seemed pretty much impossible right now. His mind was filled with the sight of her, and the growing need between his legs.

Satisfied that she had him enthralled, she lifted one foot, wiggling it to discard the black stiletto pump, and placing it gingerly on the chair between his thighs. She reached down to caress her leg, running her hands from ankle to thigh, the backs of her fingers gently brushing his hyper-sensitive cock as they moved past. Out of instinct, he reached up to stroke her calf, but was brought back to attention by a loud smack, as she slapped his hand, generating more noise than sting.

“No. You sit still now, like I told you”

“Yes, ma'am” this time it came out almost strangled, his throat seemed to have gone completely dry in the last few seconds.

As he watched, she unclipped her stocking from the garter belt. She worked her fingers under the top band of her stocking, loosening it, then slowly slid it down, exposing the soft white flesh of her inner thigh, inch by inch as she did so. As she bent forward to claim the stocking from her toetips, he was treated to a closer view of her bosom, pressed forward and together by her upper arms. He breathed deeply in the scent of her, longing to bury his face in her cleavage. As he struggled to keep himself still, she leaned back again, and set her right foot back down on the floor, then stepped out of her left shoe as well. Turning to face away from him, she bent at the waist to collect the shoes, and took her time setting them neatly to the side, waving her upturned ass in his face as she did so. He was tantalized by the sight of her panties, just inches away. He could just make out the outline of her lips, partially shrouded by the semi-transparent lace. What was clearly evident, though, was the darker wet spot right in the centre. Proof that she was enjoying this just as much as she was. His cock ached to be stroked, but he dared not lift a hand to his member, and provoke her ire again. He wanted to bury himself to the hilt in that sweet wet pussy, and he knew it would be worth the wait.

She turned, slowly to face him again, and lifted her other leg, resting the sole of her foot squarely in the center of his chest. With a sweep of her hair, she bent forward to the task of unclipping the stocking from her garter belt.

The second stocking came off as smoothly as the first. He could feel she was drawing this out, so he set his mind to settling in, and enjoying the view. She slowly unclipped the longline bra, slipping it down slowly, finally revealing the full pink nipples adorning her smooth white breasts. Finally, she stood before him, naked save for the skimpy lace underwear.

“I hope you noticed, everyone got a Wakandan souvenir except you. I was saving yours for last. I'm going to send you off with these panties” she purred, tucking a finger under the band and dipping it just low enough to reveal the rise of her pelvis. “Now isn't that a nice momento to remind you how good your wife is to you?”

“Yes, dear” he replied, a tinge sardonically.

She smirked at him in response, and began wiggling down the lace underwear, obscuring his view of the action with a sweep of her hair, and the stretch of her back. She rose, with the pair hooked around her finger, and stood, hand on hip, before him. Finally naked and completely exposed. His eyes raked her body, consuming with his eyes what he could not touch.

She moved forward towards him, stepping into the space between his knees, tantalizingly close. She brought the gifted article upward, trailing it softly up his chest. As she brought it closer to his face, he could catch her smell on it, the faint musk of arousal awakening further reciprocal passion in himself. She draped the slip of lace behind his neck, resting her forearms on the tops of his shoulders, pushing forward, so her thighs pressed into his. After delaying so long, the thrill of skin-to-skin contact sent flashes of hot and cold through his body. Her hands trailed down his chest, caressing, down to his member before encircling the base of his penis, wrists gently brushing the shaft.

“Say you love me”

In that moment he would have said or done anything. He trembled at the thought.

“I love you.”

She reached forward and kissed him, deeply but briefly, pulling back all too soon.

“I love you, too. Say it again.”

“I love you” he said, putting some Captain's authority in his voice this time.

“Good. Then show me how” she spoke, encircling his stiff cock with her hand and pulling upward, bouncing his sensitive head against the crest of the lips of her pussy.

Thus released, he bounded upward, scooping her up in his arms, and flipping her onto her back on the floor in front of his chair, and pressing his body down on top of hers.

Surprise broke the facade of the sultry seductress, and she broke into ecstatic giggling. He briefly thought to admonish her, but his mouth was full of the soft flesh of her breast. He worked each one over with a riot of sucking kisses as he slid his hands out from under her and brought them to his aching cock. Rising up to his knees, as he looked down on her, splayed out beneath him, he absently gave it a few strokes with his hand, which only stoked his fire further. He pressed forward, bringing his head to her entrance, and sliding it up and down her sweet folds, before pushing into her continuing until his entire length was enveloped in her core.

It felt like a home-coming, being suddenly inside her. Enveloped by her, warm and wet, and her heartbeat in the soft velvety tissues around his penis. He could feel her giggles rippling though her body, her soft flesh contracting around his cock inside her. He decided he was going to fuck those right out of her. He began thrusting his hips, pumping quickly into her again and again. It felt so good, her smooth walls caressing all the right spots that had been longing for just this. Her amused giggles began to give way to gasps of pleasure in time with the peaks of his thrusts into her. He revelled at the power that he had to reduce her to incoherence. She wanted his cock, and he was giving it to her. After such a long tease, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. He felt a familiar pressure start to build in his balls, each stroke pushing him closer and closer to release. As he neared the point of no return he called out.

“I'm coming”

“Yes. Yes!” was her response as she shifted her hips, drawing him closer, deeper. He felt her walls grip him tighter, and knowing her own finish was near, let himself go. He felt his seed push upward, finally satifying the long ache for climax. He spurted deeply inside her, filling her with his seed, pausing for a moment as the world went white with pleasure. He drew slowly out of her, before plunging back in, drawing after-shocks of cum out of himself with the smooth friction, until he was completely dry, emptied out into her, body and soul.

Exhausted, he shifted his weight, so he wouldn't crush (Y/N) and then collapsed beside her on the floor. In the moment of clarity after sex, freed completely from the ever-present desire for arousal of manhood, he contemplated his life. He was deeply content. He had been a man out of time, but he had found his home, and it was with a wonderful woman who he loved and admired, and who loved him back just as deeply. As he thought on this happy truth, he relaxed into the afterglow of their lovemaking.

**Author's Note:**

> [Lingerie inspiration](http://i.imgur.com/He38WsX.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> This set of chapters belongs near the end of a larger series, that is almost entirely not yet written. But, this bit stands mostly on its own, so I thought I'd post it as I go.
> 
> These chapters are the only one from Roger's point of view, the rest are reader-insert.
> 
> Gentle CC/suggestions are welcomed, this is my first creative writing endeavour since high school.


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